Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Imagine a place developed from the ground up for the sole
purpose of brewing beer. Its entire
infrastructure developed for making beer.
Its entire population existing to meet the needs of the industry. Its streets, a complex rail system, the life
line of each brewery, delivering raw ingredients, transporting casks, moving
spent grain. Day in and day out, around
the clock, ingredients come in, beer flows out – faster, more efficient.

Prior to my trip to Burton, I knew very little about its
history. I had a general understanding
of its historical significance and its contribution to brewing, but little else. So, I decided to make the trip from Harrogate
to Burton with little expectations for the town, other than to pay homage to a
place that is recognized by most every homebrewer and to visit the National
Brewery Centre.

After a 2.5 hour trip with a transfer at Leeds, I walked off
the train to a sight of a rather aging city under a very grey and gloomy sky;
not very picturesque by any stretch of the imagination, rather, very
unspectacular looking. Dominating the
center of the city was the Molson Coors brewery. Poor choices of exterior materials and a
rather obvious sign of a lack of up keep, the brewery was an ugly
site…enormous, yes, but not much consideration for aesthetics or taste. Walking past the modern, but faded and aging
brewery, I began to see signs of the Burton of the past – large brick
buildings, many sitting vacant, others repurposed for restaurants or a variety
of other needs. The dramatic contrast of
new and old caused me to shake my head…such grand brick buildings, standing for
centuries, built with pride and integrity by the hands of hard working men next
to thrown together metal structures that beg for respect, but with no substance
behind their construction only get a passing glance from a passerby’s brief
recognition of the multinational corporation’s sign bolted onto the black
fence.

Molson Coors Brewery in Burton-on-Trent

The contrast of new and old in Burton.

This continued to be the trend through the town, one
impressive brick building, surely a remnant of a former brewery, standing next
to a new building of significantly inferior quality and substance. Where there was not a new building, there was
a parking lot. Nothing in particular
stood out about Burton, a city standing in the shadows of its past - a theme
replayed across innumerable cities all over the world. Just like any other former industrial town –
trying to keep up with the present by demolishing one substantial, historical
building after another to make way for a more convenient and suitable
replacement. I eventually made my way to
my destination – the National Brewery Centre.

One of the buildings of the National Brewery Center,in an original building from the Worthington Brewery.

Housed in a large red brick building situated on the back
corner of the Molson Coors parking lot, the National Brewery Centre recounted
the once flourishing history of the Bass Brewery and its place in the brewing
heritage of Burton-on-Trent. The museum
was enormous spanning across three buildings showing off antique brewing
equipment, beer memorabilia, shire horses, dray carts, vintage delivery trucks,
and on and on. But what stood out to me
the most was a large scale model of the city of Burton in the year 1880. I was in heaven indulging in the historical
artifacts of brewing in Burton, but I was astonished to learn of the massive
influence brewing had on the city – culminating in an unbelievable scale model
of how the city once stood.

Burton in 1880.

Burton in 1880.

Burton in 1880.

Burton in 1880.

So, going back to that brewing paradise mentioned above,
that place once existed…it was called Burton-on-Trent. Sitting directly above an abundant source of
some of the most perfect brewing water in the world and situated alongside the
River Trent, an important commercial route cutting across England, Burton
established itself as the brewing capital of the world during the 19th
century. Dozens of wells scattered
across the town provided the breweries access to the water sitting deep
underground. Complex rail systems
tangled throughout the town linking each brewery to the main rail line. At its peak, over 30 massive breweries called
this place home – producing over a quarter of England’s beer production and
exporting beer all over the world. Each
brewery employed armies of people to address the needs of every aspect of the
brewery – brewers, coopers, construction workers, engineers, clerical workers,
chemists, maltsters, uniform seamstresses, shoe makers, shire horses, and on
and on…each brewery was basically like a little city within a city taking up
dozens of buildings expanding across numerous city blocks. The work was intense, but people flocked to
the city to work in the harsh conditions and keep the industry booming.

Needless to say, my perspective of the unremarkable town
that I had just walked through had dramatically changed in light of the more
informed understanding I had gained of the place and its history. I made my way back through the city, viewing things
through a completely different lens – trying to imagine how the city once was.

The scale model I had seen in the museum was utterly
impressive, the city that I was walking through was not. There were no signs of the rail system that
once filled the streets. There was no
sign of the smoke stacks rising high above the city. And there was no hint of the sweet smell of
brewing in the air. Little remained of
the once thriving industry. Sure, lots
of original brick buildings still stood, but they were all disconnected,
repurposed, and mainly vacant. Sure, brewing
was still a significant part of the city, but the empire that once stood in
Burton had been demolished and replaced with the latest, modern systems able to
produce as much beer in only 1% of the space.
Sure, there still remained some major breweries in the city, but the
craft of brewing had been replaced with the automation of the business of
brewing. The city has continued to limp
along, but years of bad decisions, numerous brewery mergers, and greedy buy
outs has crippled the city and left it only with relics of a once impressive
past.

As I continued walking through the city, I came across a pub
called the Bridge Inn. On the front of
the building, it said Burton Bridge Brewery in big block letters, and on a sign
in front of the entrance it said “Now available: Burton Ale”. I quickly decided that it was time for a pint
or two. That was a wise decision. This pub was fantastic, the beer was incredible;
I had discovered a reinvigoration of life into Burton by way of beer. The namesake beer of the city had been
revived by a small brewery keen on continuing the long tradition of making
incredible beer in Burton-on-Trent. And
Burton’s legacy continues…the once booming city full of massive breweries is
birthing a new generation of small scale breweries intent on providing the UK
with amazing beer.

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

I do not claim to be an expert by any stretch of the
imagination. My experience with beer in
the UK has been limited to one area, North Yorkshire, and for quite a short
amount of time, two weeks, so it is difficult to claim that I have a broad
perspective of the state of the beer industry in the UK. But it is impossible to overlook the fact,
that American craft beer has a profound influence on beer in the UK. I have traveled across an ocean with hopes
of being exposed to traditional English ales served properly in a proper
setting, however, everywhere I go the “craft” beer being served is one
variation after another of an American Pale ale. It is quite obvious that the “cutting edge”
breweries and the craft beer aficionados in the UK have come to reject the traditional
flavors and styles that were once prolific in every pub in the country,
replacing them with the ubiquitous American hop flavor. As I pursue my inspiration for trying to
bring traditional English ales to Chicago, it is becoming more and more
apparent to me that my endeavor may also be helping to preserve an endangered style
in its homeland.

Angel Inn in Leeds, a very traditional pub and one of many Samuel Smith pubs. Samuel Smith tied houses have changedvery little over time, maintaining low prices, but tending to have a questionable reputations with many people.

I was naïve to think that the UK that I had read about in literature,
glamorizing the pub culture with hand pumps, casks, and traditional ales, would
be left unchanged in the year 2015. It
is so easy to glamorize a place based on movies and books…to think that those
stories of fiction or those generalized summaries of history carryon through
time unspoiled and are a continuous reality of a place. As I have endured the ever changing landscape
of Chicago, with its fluid trends and fickle consumerism, there was a part of
me that thought there existed across the Atlantic this land of tradition, where
people valued meaningful things and appreciated good, traditional beer. However, just like Chicago, people in the UK
are ever chasing after the latest and greatest, most often overlooking the
traditions that I have come to admire.

The Crane Bar in Galway, Ireland

This realization of my naiveté came to me even before I
arrived in the UK. I left Chicago a few
days before I was to start work at the brewery so that I could spend some time
in Ireland. If anyone knows me at all, they
know that I love Irish music – yet another dying tradition in this world. I have sought good Irish music whenever I
have the opportunity. Columbus, OH was a
great place for Irish music. There I
discovered one of my favorite bands, the Drowsy Lads. However, my appreciation for the music always
brought to mind this far off place where Irish jigs and reels were played night
after night to a raucous crowd of pub dwellers whose glasses never ran dry of Guinness…who
reveled in the musicianship and were united by the exuberant energy. Well, come to find out, after a few days
driving around Ireland, seeking the most well-known places for music, these places
no longer exists as they once did. They
have been spoiled by tourists, just like me, sucking out every ounce of
genuineness that remained of the once prolific Irish folk music pubs. What remained were places which catered to
the foreigner, playing well known tunes to a completely detached crowd. Sure Irish folk music still exists and
occasionally glimpses of genuineness shine through in these settings, but the
stories and places that are immortalized in the songs only continue to exist
through the songs…these places have changed just like everywhere else.

The Grove Inn in Leeds, A fine pub with a very cozy, traditional interior.

So with that experience behind me, I headed to the UK –
dreaming of cask ale and lively pubs with

dark aging wood interiors, full of
character and soul warming, log burning fireplaces. And what is all too common in my experience
so far…American Pales ales, lots of keg beer, stark white, devoid of character
interiors, and far too few fireplaces. Don’t
get me wrong; traditional places still exist, traditional ales still exist…they
are just much harder to find. They are
no longer the norm, they are now a novelty, a weekend escape, a reminder of
what once was. The UK, at least North
Yorkshire, can no longer be defined by their idyllic portrayal. What has replaced them is simply a sign of
the public’s changing preferences, the society’s acceptance of trend over
substance.

With my first two weeks in the UK not quite what I had
imagined, I am not disappointed with what I have experienced so far. I continue to seek out substance and genuineness
in the places that I visit. Moments and
places continue to surprise. Whether it
be the dingy pub I walked into that welcomed me in like family or the
incredibly well balanced traditional Mild ale that everyone told me not to get,
I can see and taste hints of the traditional everywhere. Instead of trying to conform this new place
in which I find myself to fit my expectations, I am, instead, trying to
experience everything with an open mind.
I’ll leave it to the movies and history books to paint the pictures of
how life once was, and I will take it upon myself to make the most of the
present and develop my own understanding of the actual place in which I am
blessed to spend the next few months.
Come to think of it, that is quite in line with the meaning of the name
of our brewery – Present Tense.

Traditional or not….I still have an unimaginable supply of amazing
cask ale all around me…and that makes me very happy!

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Standing on Skipton Road at 6:15AM waiting on Oliver to pick
me up, it was all becoming a reality now.
I was finally in the UK. I was
finally starting my first brewery job.
And I had woken up at the god forsaken time of 5am. This was to be my schedule for the next 3
months. A slight change of schedule from
what I had grown accustomed to in Chicago – starting work at 10am. Now by 10am almost half my work day would be
over.

My expectations for the day were not very high. I expected
to be doing basic labor for a while – cask washing, shoveling grain, cleaning,
etc – but I was looking forward to getting past the uncomfortableness of being
the new guy and contributing to the brewery in my own way.

Casks getting loaded on pallets to be

filled with beer the next day.

We arrived at the brewery in about 15 minutes after Oliver picked
me up. The drive from Harrogate to
Knaresborough was surprisingly busy for such an hour – may be the English were
earlier risers than Americans or maybe I just had no idea that people’s days
started much earlier than mine typically had in the past. Oliver and I entered in the side door behind
the massive stainless steel tanks while everyone else was waiting at the front
where two large steel sliding doors opened the brewery up to the world. The brewery was housed in a large steel
structure resembling an airplane hangar – a large half circle corrugated steel
roof extending for nearly a football field’s length.

After I got introduced to everyone, and quickly forgot
everyone’s name, everyone very promptly got to work. Kat fixed coffee and tea for everyone. Everyone had their own steel toe, waterproof
boots and a locker to hold their stuff.
It all operated like a well-oiled machine – everyone had their tasks for
the day and it was just a matter of getting it done that determined the success
of their job. As everyone started
tackling their morning tasks, Oliver gave me a tour.

The cask washer beside a wall of casks.

The brewery was very orderly and very logically set up. Behind the two massive doors, the casks sat
stacked 4 rows of 6 high. Stacked on
pallets with trays placed between each row, the casks were able to be easily
moved and rearranged as needed. There
were 9 gallon casks, 11 gallon casks, and full 18 gallon casks. Beside the casks was two bathrooms and a
large stainless steel utility sink and dishwasher. Behind the casks was the cask washer. Placed up against the wall, the cask washer
was a 3 cask washer. A cask stand stood
close to the cask washer with a large plastic tub positioned under the stand to
catch the remaining contents of each cask as it was emptied and rinsed. Behind the cask washer on the right side of
the building was a two story structure with the lower level having an enclosed
laboratory making up one room and a supplies closet making up the other. The upper level was used for grain storage
and for access to the top of the mash tun for loading the grain hopper. The 30 barrel brew house stood behind this
with a hot liquor tank, a cold liquor tank, a CIP system, and another hot
liquor tank. On the left side of the
building stood a two story structure with the lower level having a small office
for Oliver positioned adjacent to the kitchen and the upper level housed Tom’s
office. Behind that was a closet for
storing the canning system, filters, and pumps.
Then more cask and can storage and then behind that stood CO2 tanks and
O2 tanks beside a large bright tank for carbonating beer prior to kegging and
canning. 6 large conical fermenters
finished the remainder of the left side of the room across from the brew house. The fermenters were custom made by a local
fabricator with a manway opening at the top for dryhopping. All of this composed the main area of the
brewery. Behind the main area was a two
story cold room. The lower level was
held at cellar temperature for cask conditioning, while the upper level housed
all of the hops at 2 deg C. Finally,
behind the cold storage was a staging area for prepping cask orders for
delivery.

Research - Hales Pub, Harrogate's oldest pub

This is my world for the next three months. Day in and day out, opportunities will arise
to make me become very familiar with every aspect of the brewery – but for now
my main tasks are washing pallet after pallet of casks, making sure that they
are absolutely spotless on the inside, and filling casks from the fermenters
that stand 12 feet over my head in what seem like a tank of infinite
capacity. Regardless of how menial the
task, I am incredibly grateful for this opportunity. What can I complain about? I am in UK, working for an awesome
brewery…spending my free time “researching” the drinking culture in the UK
while sampling as many cask beers that I can get my hands on. Also, it doesn’t hurt that everyone I have
met so far has been incredibly friendly and accommodating to me and very
curious and supportive of our goals for Present Tense. 3 months is quite a while to be away,
especially when I had to leave someone very special behind, but this is a once
in a lifetime opportunity, and I am doing best to make the most of this
experience and prepare myself to bring a little bit of the UK back to Chicago.